


Not So By The Rules

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, College AU, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Heavy Drinking, Love Confessions, Love Confessions While Drunk, Love Triangles, Love Triangles to Polyamory, Multi, Oblivious Dumbasses In Love, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 07:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10871709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Castiel didn’t intend to fall in love with his roommate’s girlfriend, he really didn’t.





	Not So By The Rules

Castiel didn’t intend to fall in love with his roommate’s girlfriend, he really didn’t.

He had no idea how it happened to begin with. Hell, he had no idea how it was that Sam was dating her in the first place. Jess, Sam’s previous girlfriend, was a very sweet girl, supportive, kind, all-around a nice person. Castiel liked her well enough, but he’d never for a second was attracted to her. He must have been the exception to every other guy in her life.

Meg was Jess’ polar opposite. She was sarcastic, boastful and mean. She put on heavy rock music and danced on the carpet, singing along to the lyrics so loud Castiel and Sam had to calm down a couple of complaining neighbors more than once. She drank too much beer, ate too much pizza (she always took the last three slices if they weren’t careful), she slept in until late and clogged the shower drain with her long black hair. She walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but Sam’s shirts and groaned at Castiel when he wished her good morning. So naturally, the first thing Castiel felt for her had been instant dislike.

“Yes, of course, I’ll talk to her about it,” Sam said when Castiel brought up these complains to him. “Sorry, Cas.”

Castiel kept rinsing the dishes without saying a word, because it wasn’t the shower drain or the last slice of pizza. It was her. Her entire personality and the fact she seemed to be there _all the time_. When Sam was dating Jess, he went to spend the night at her place at least _sometimes_. Castiel managed to have some nights to himself to read, but with Meg there, that was impossible.

“Why do you apologize for her?” Castiel asked. “Why are you even dating her? She’s… she’s an abomination!”

“Oh, come on, you’re being over dramatic,” Sam huffed. “Yes, I know Meg isn’t always the nicest person, but she’s… she’s…”

He trailed off and finished drying the dish and put it away.

“See? You’re her boyfriend and you can’t even say something good about her.”

“I’m not her boyfriend. Well, not exactly.” Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re just dating casually.”

“You don’t do casual.” Castiel squinted at him.

He knew Sam (they have been roommates in their college dorm before they decide to get an apartment near the campus) and he knew Sam dated to find someone to marry, have children and buy a house and a golden retriever with. He had been searching for engagement rings before the entire fallout with Jess. There was no way, no how he was dating Meg “casually”.

“Well, maybe I should, Cas,” Sam replied, with a shrug. “I’m graduating at the end of the semester. I just came out of a three years relationship. Maybe I should do something… not so by the rules for once.”

“You’re having a mid-life crisis at twenty three,” Castiel pointed out.

“Well, better now than later, right?” Sam said. “And in any case, you would get along better with her if you didn’t antagonize her all the time.”

“I do not…!”

“You just called her an abomination!”

“I didn’t do it to her face,” Castiel argued. Sam looked at him with an arched eyebrow and Castiel conceded with a grunt. “I’m sorry, she’s just so…”

“Completely different from you?” Sam asked. He laughed when Castiel glared at him. “Come on, man, just give her a chance. I’m sure you’ll find common ground with her.”

Castiel doubted it, but he guessed he couldn’t blame Sam. It was obvious that his break-up with Jess was affecting him greatly, Meg was just a symptom of a much larger problem. So while his irritation to her wasn’t going to go away no matter what he did, he needed to keep it conceal until Sam decided to go back to being himself. Or until the both graduated and one of them found a job that allowed him to move elsewhere. Or until Meg got tired of Sam (Castiel was sure this was the most likely scenario, Meg didn’t seem like the kind of girl who stayed with someone for too long if they bored her).

That was what he had decided to do, just ignore Meg until she went away. And that was when she had revealed another aspect of her and Castiel… Castiel had just toppled over to feelings he didn’t even know he was having.

There were three knocks on the door and Castiel looked up from his drawing table, irritated. He had brought out of his room and in the middle of the living room because there was better light there, but if it was who he thought it was, he might as well just scurry back into his cave.

Sure enough, Meg was right at the other side of the door. She was donning jeans and a leather jacket, as usual, with her bike’s helmet in one hand and her backpack in the other.

“Hey,” she greeted her, with a jerky motion of her head.

“Sam isn’t here.”

“I know.” Meg shrugged, her long dark hair following the movement of her shoulders. “But he’ll be back in a couple of hours and I thought I’d wait for him.”

“Don’t you have a house?”

“Yes.” She kept staring at him until it became obvious he was expecting the rest of the story. “Oh, I don’t feel like being there right now.”

“Well, I’m busy,” Castiel replied, a little more curtly than he intended to. “I don’t think I’ll be capable of… uh, entertaining you.”

“I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself.” She smirked and Castiel was felt with the distinctive feeling there was some undercurrent to her words that he was missing. It happened all the time. She scoffed. “Fine, if you don’t want me here, I’ll wait at the café across the street.”

She was about to turn around when Castiel called her. He didn’t know why he did that. Perhaps because he didn’t want Sam to think that he wasn’t at least trying to get along with her. He was his best friend, after all, and Castiel didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Wait… just… don’t put on music or anything.”

“Promise. I’ll be quiet as a mouse,” Meg replied with a smirk.

Castiel didn’t have much faith in that, but he still opened up the door for her.

“No boots on the coffee table,” he groaned at her when she flailed down on the couch.

Meg chose to cross her legs instead and pulled out a philosophy book from her backpack. She put on her headphones and turned the music up. Castiel could hear the buzzing coming off them, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t ignore. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

He sat on his table and sharpened another pencil and continued with his project. By the time she put her book down and stretched her arms above her head, it had ben forty-five minutes and he was surprised she had actually kept her promise to be quiet. He wasn’t so surprise when she got up and went to the kitchen to help herself to their beer, but he couldn’t really ask for more.

But most surprising of all was when she approached his table and offered him a can. He had been certain she would finish them all six of them in consecutive gulps.

“Thanks,” he said.

She smiled at him and leaned against the wall.

“What are you working on?” she asked. “Or you’re too busy to make small talk?”

Was she mocking him? It sounded like she was mocking him. Then again, she always sounded like she was mocking somebody, so perhaps that was just the way she spoke.

“I’m designing some things for my classes,” Castiel said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Buildings. It wouldn’t interest you.”

“You’re right, it sounds totally lame,” she replied. And yet, she stayed where she was, drinking her beer, her brown eyes boring into him. “Do you like being an architect?”

“I’m not an architect yet,” Castiel said. He wasn’t sure how to end that conversation in a way that didn’t seem “antagonizing”, but at the same time, she wasn’t really doing anything to prevent him from drawing, was she?

“But you’re going to be,” she insisted. “Sam talks about being a lawyer all the time. So…”

Castiel breathed in deeply and put down the pencil.

“It’s a good career.”

“But do you like it?” Meg insisted.

Castiel glared at her. Now she was bordering on very private issues he didn’t really want to think about.

“My father is an architect and so are my three older brothers. It’s a family occupation. When I graduate, I’ll have the chance to work with them at the firm. It’s a safe choice. I couldn’t ask for more.”

“Okay, sure,” Meg said. “So what do you do besides that?”

“What?” Castiel asked, squinting at them.

“People don’t usually take the safe choice unless they really like it or they’re saving up money for something else,” she explained. “So what do you do that requires a ‘safe’ job for you to fall back on?”

Castiel was baffled by that question.

“Why do have to do anything besides my ‘safe choice’?” he asked, drawing air quotes around the last two words.

“Oh, you don’t _have to_ ,” Meg replied. “But you’re definitely a less interesting person if you don’t.”

That infuriated him. What did she know about his interests? About what he did or what he wanted to do? How could she judge him for something as silly as that?

“I’m not an uninteresting person, am I?” Castiel asked Sam a few days later. Not because he had been thinking about it. Not at all.

“What?” Sam asked, turning to him.

Castiel couldn’t blame him for being confused. They were having a drink in their balcony as they did sometimes if the weather was mild, watching the city lights and just enjoying the peace when he had blurted out the question. And now he felt stupid for having even asked it, but he wasn’t going to back down now. He explained what Meg had said, making a point to tell him just how rude and weird she was talking about those things, and to his surprise, it made Sam smile.

“Why do you even care?” he asked, with a chuckle.

“I don’t,” Castiel lied. “I don’t care what she thinks of me. I don’t care what she considers interesting. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. I am my own person and I don’t have to follow anyone’s expectations. Stop laughing, Samuel.”

Sam had the decency to hide his smile by taking a swig of his beer.

“You’re not uninteresting, Cas,” he said after a pause. “No, of course not. In fact, you have to be one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.”

That was more than Castiel was expecting and Sam must have realized, because he immediately avoided his gaze.

“Thank you, Sam,” Castiel said anyway. “That was… thank you.”

Sam smile at him, the dimples of his face becoming visible. Castiel could understand why Meg hadn’t let go of him yet.

But it didn’t matter what Sam said (he was his best friend, he had to say nice things about Castiel), he still felt the need to prove to Meg just how interesting he was. So the next time he was warned she was going to show up (“Meg’s coming with pizza by 8” said Sam’s message) he made painfully sure to be casually in the living room with the latest picture he was working on and donned his paint-stained shirt.

Meg crooked an eyebrow at him, but she made no comment as she left the pizza on the kitchen’s counter.

“What’s that smell?”

“Turpentine,” Castiel said as he returned to his seat and pointedly ignored Meg.

“I think you just zapped the hunger out of me,” Meg said, wrinkling her nose.

“Well, sorry about that,” Castiel said, while being completely not sorry about it.

Meg took a beer out of the fridge (of course) and walked around the table. He tried to contain a smile of triumph as she leaned a little to look over his shoulder.

“Where’s that?” she asked, pointing at the snowy mountain in the picture he was using for model.

“Aspen. Last winter break,” he told her, talking his bush and adding some details to the sky. “We went to stay at our house and ski with my brothers. It was a beautiful sight, so I snapped a picture.”

“Aspen, huh?” Meg chuckled. “Aren’t you the picture perfect of privilege?”

She walked away, leaving Castiel feeling as if she had just punched him in the gut.

“That is not… what do you mean?”

“Nothing Just that boys with parents who have places in Aspen and a job secured after graduation rarely have to think about bigger problems than the size of the yacht they want for their birthday.”

“What do you know?” Castiel asked, feeling the colors rush to his face. “You don’t know me!”

“Illuminate me, then.” Meg cocked her head. “What problem could you possibly have?”

Castiel gritted his teeth and realized he either let her think he was a pampered boy or he showed her he was more than she took him for.

“You asked me what I wanted to do besides my ‘safe choice’,” he reminded her, drawing air quotes again. “Well, this is it. This is what I wanted to do. Drawing and painting are really what I’m passionate about, but I couldn’t pursuit an Art’s degree because I didn’t count with my father’s approval.”

“Oh, you poor baby,” Meg said. It looked like she was holding back a sneer. “Let me guess, your favorite musical is _Rent_.”

“You think it was easy for me?” Castiel asked, anger boiling in his veins.

“No, I don’t think it was easy for you.” She rolled her eyes. “But I think there’s definitely worse problems to have and you seem pretty content with your choices. So what are you complaining about?”

When she put it like that, he did come off as excessively whiny. There was no way he was going to win this argument, so he simply retreated to his spot and picked up the brush. But his inspiration was gone.

Meg sat on the couch and opened her philosophy book again.

“And what about you?” he asked her, because he wasn’t about to let it go just yet.

“What about me?” she asked, turning the page without looking at him.

“Are you _content_ with your choices?”

He only meant to taunt her, like she did every so often to him, but when she looked up him, those big brown eyes staring daggers into him, Castiel felt an unfamiliar lurch in his stomach. It was a strange mixture of arousal and fear.

“I will be,” she said in a whisper, before she turned her attention back to her book.

Castiel didn’t sleep that night. Not only because he could hear the headboard of Sam’s bed banging against the wall (they were thick enough that he never actually heard anything else, mind you), but because he really couldn’t really forget the way Meg had looked at him. Like he was an idiot for even asking. Like he couldn’t possibly hope to understand her.

“What is she majoring in again?”

“Philosophy, with a minor in Gender Studies. Cas, I thought you didn’t like Meg.”

“I don’t,” Castiel clarified, as he searched for the courses Meg should be taking for her major and tracked down professors and reading lists. “But I’ll be damn if I let her think I’m not at least as smart as she is.”

“You’re ridiculous, that’s what you are.”

Sam didn’t mean it as a jest or as a taunt. He was smiling, as if he thought Cas’ determination to impress Meg was funny.

“I just want to shut her up for once, that’s all,” Castiel replied, as he wrote down the books he would need to achieve just that.

“Sure you do,” he giggled.

Castiel ignored him, wondering if he would have time to read Nietzsche’s complete works before Friday, because Sam had announced Meg was staying for the weekend. Now, Castiel could have just gone to Gabriel’s, his brother, house with the excuse to do laundry and then not leave until Sunday. He had done it before. It could have been so easy to just not see Meg and her smug smile and not have a duel of wits with her. But his honor was at stake.

Of course, by that point, he was beginning to suspect the reasons he told himself for everything he was doing were bullshit.

Sam was beginning to catch on, too. He stayed in silence for a moment, toying with his beer.

“Hey. It’s okay, you know?”

“What’s okay?” Castiel asked, only half paying attention to the conversation.

“If you like her. If you want to ask her out.”

Castiel blinked and slowly turned his face at his friend.

“Why would I want to do that? I can’t stand that woman.”

“Sure, okay,” Sam scoffed. “I’m just putting it out there that we’re not exclusive. I know she sees other guys besides me. She’s always open about it.”

Castiel was extremely puzzled by this.

“Why would anyone want another guy besides you?” he asked, cocking his head. “You’re… I think you’re a pretty good boyfriend.”

“I’m not her boyfriend and I don’t think she wants me to be,” Sam explained. “She told me she wouldn’t mind if I also saw other… people.”

Castiel still didn’t understand this.

“And do you?” he asked. “See other girls, I mean.”

“I… well, there’s… there’s someone.” Sam scratched the back of his neck as if he was nervous confessing this. “I’ve known them for a while, and we have a good relationship, but, uh…”

“Is it Sarah?”

“No, it’s not Sarah,” Sam said, even though that was the only one of their female friends who matched that description. Unless it was one of Sam’s classmates or study buddies. Castiel didn’t know them all. “The thing is... I can’t just walk up to them and ask them on a date.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I think it might… complicate a lot of things,” Sam explained, still not looking directly at Castiel. “And besides, they might like someone else.”

“Sam, this isn’t middle school,” Castiel pointed out. “If you don’t know if they like someone else or not, just ask them.”

Sam only chuckled as Castiel finished writing the list of books he would need to outsmart Meg.

“Well, do you?” he asked, in the end.

“Do I what?”

“Like Meg?” Sam insisted.

“No, she’s insufferable,” Castiel said, snapping shut his notebook. “Excuse me, I have to go to the library before they close.”

By Friday, he was ready. He’d also had a couple of existential crisis as he contemplated the futility of his own existence and the emptiness of the uncaring universe, but the satisfaction of seeing Meg’s face when he countered her pretty philosophical arguments with his own would more than make up for that.

“Hello, Meg,” he greeted her when she showed up, as usual, carrying pizza and her overnight bag over her shoulder. “Did you have a good week?”

Meg immediately looked suspicious of him. As she should have.

“It was okay,” she said, leaving the pizzas on their spot on the counter. “Why do you ask?”

“Can’t I just ask?”

“I mean, you can, but you never do,” Meg said. “You’re rude like that.”

How could she call him rude when she was the one who sauntered into his apartment when he was just living his life and tried to get a rouse out of him? Castiel breathed in deeply and reminded himself he was on a mission.

“Well, it’s never a bad thing to change your uses,” Castiel commented. “After all, the snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind.”

Meg had her head inside of the fried, rummaging for beer as usual, but she slowly stood up straight, her eyebrows raised as if she wasn’t sure she had heard him right. A grin bloomed in her lips.

“Oh, that’s cute,” she commented. She leaned on the counter and snapped the beer open. “Someone’s been reading Nietzsche.”

Castiel gave her a half shrug and a smile. That was many of the things he had prepared for her. It had been nothing but a warning shot. He was prepared for whatever verbal attack she could unleash on him.

But for one, Meg didn’t seem interested in talking or teasing him. She seemed more interested in drinking her beer and standing there, with her leather jacket and the charm over her neck, and her hair thrown back as she leaned her head back to drink from the can…

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” he asked when he couldn’t take it anymore.

“About what?” Meg asked. “You, trying to expand your mind? Are you a nihilist now?”

Her sneer was like a jab in his chest, but Castiel decided to disregard that and keep pushing on.

“No, but I’m thinking you might be.”

“Oh? How’s that?” Meg asked, still smiling as if she was amused.

“Well.” Castiel took a step closer to her. He immediately regretted that decision. The kitchen wasn’t that big and now he was dangerously close to her. He didn’t want her to think that he was coming on to her or something like that, but Meg remained unperturbed, nursing her beer and looking at him with those bright brown eyes, how was it possible they were so expressive? “Just… your general disregard for social codes, your decadent eating and drinking habits, your loose sexual behavior… they’re all the marks of someone who have renounced to find meaning in the world.”

“And you know a lot about that, huh?” Meg shook her head, but she was still smiling through all of this ordeal. “You failed to diagnose me, Castiel Milton. I am an absurdist at best.”

“Is that so?”

Meg suddenly stood up straight, as if she was going to tell him something very important.

“One always finds one's burden again,” she said. “But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night-filled mountain, in itself, forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart.” She raised her beer as if she was toasting with him. “One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

Castiel didn’t answer. Not because it was impressive that she quote Camus from memory (which it was), and not because she clearly didn’t expect her to answer, too busy finishing her drink.

But because while she stood there, reciting those words as if they were a mantra that she’d repeated herself several times, with her eyes bright and her lips so strange as they form the words, it suddenly hit him like a truck that Sam had been right all along.

He did like Meg.

In fact, he was head over heels for her.

She grinned at him when she finished.

“What, did I leave you speechless?” she asked. “I could also recite it in the original French if you’d want me to.”

“No,” Castiel said, taking a step backwards. “That won’t be necessary.”

Meg’s smile faltered at the edges, as if she suddenly realized this wasn’t their usual banter anymore. She opened her mouth but the door clicked open and Sam walked in.

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” he asked, casually. They didn’t answer to him for a few seconds too long, so he just cleared his throat and reached for the pizza. “Did you bring the vegetarian I asked you to this time?”

“No, I didn’t,” Meg grumbled. “You will eat your meat lover like a man and you will like it, dammit.”

Sam snorted out a laugh and picked up the plates for the slices.

“You’re joining us, Cas? We’re watching a surreal French film, they told me it’s very good.”

“No,” Castiel said, a little too fast. He cleared his throat and tried again to sound normal. “No. That sounds very interesting, but I have, uh… things, I have to do. I’ll be in my room.”

“Your loss, cupcake,” Meg said, with a shrug.

Her eyes still bore into him as he turned heel and fled.

Goddammit.

How? How did it happen? Why? When? He still found Meg infuriating, but less in a “I can’t wait until you’re out of my life” kind of way and more in a “I’d very much like to slam you against a wall and kiss you just to shut you up” kind of way. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

He sat on his desk and tried to read (he really needed to study), but when his concentration failed, he tried to draw (that always did help him relax and focus), and when that failed… he Facebook stalked Meg for two hours, going through her posts and pictures like some sort of horrible creep. In fact, he was trying to figure out something about her. Had she always been this smart and fascinating? How come he had never noticed before?

Meg’s posts were mostly jokes about how she couldn’t function without coffee (he had witnessed this first hand whenever she stayed over; she always went for the coffee pot like some sort of freshly woken zombie), humorous complaints about all the reading she had to do, more serious complaints about the manager at her part time job, quotes like the one she had recited from her favorite philosopher and some political news. She always seemed to engage in arguments with whoever commented on the articles she shared, and she didn’t seem to particularly care about who she alienated with her views. The pictures she had with her friends were usually in cafés or local breweries or music concerts. None of the disco or wild fraternity parties that Castiel had considered her scene.

That seem to completely contradict the image Castiel had of Meg being a beer-drinking party girl always on the prowl for her next sex toy. But then again, he had known that for a while. Sam wouldn’t go for someone like that, not even “casually”. Castiel had simply refused to adjust his image of Meg out of pettiness. Or perhaps because he knew if he saw her more in focus, he would realize exactly what he was realizing and he couldn’t really think like that. Not of his roommate and best friend’s girlfriend.

Because it didn’t really matter what Sam said, they were dating. If they watched French movies while eating pizza and then went to bed together on a Friday night, they were dating. Castiel didn’t think he could share Meg even with Sam’s blessing. And if she saw other guys besides them, that wasn’t really any better, because then jealousy could completely ruin him. He’d teased Sam for not dating “casually”, but the truth was that Castiel was also a serial monogamist; he’d either gone long periods of time single or dated the same girl for months. His longest relationship had lasted a little over a year, because unlike Sam, he didn’t have a plan that involved getting married and sharing the rest of his life with someone. That might have been something Meg would appreciate, but it still might hurt Sam in the long run if his and Meg’s relationship was in the process of adjusting to Sam’s perspective of things. He didn’t want to throw a wrench into that.

So there he was. Realizing he had all these feelings that he couldn’t hold but he had to for the sake of his friendship with Sam. The banging of the headboard started half an hour later. Castiel wrapped himself in a blanket, took his sketchbook and moved away to the living room where he didn’t have to hear it. Someone had left a pizza cardboard in the middle of the table and he picked up with a sigh, thinking about making another complain about, but he realized it was actually heavier than it should be.

They had left the three last slices of pizza out for him. Castiel was definitely not coming in between them after that.

Not that it was easy, of course. Meg still showed up at the apartment unannounced and at different hours, to the point where Sam started probing Castiel on the idea of giving her a key.

“Must we?” Castiel asked, squinting at Sam.

“Well, no, I mean, we don’t _have_ to,” Sam said. “But you know, she has some issues with her stepdad and she’s always crashing elsewhere when she needs to study. So I just figured it would be safer for her if she came here now that finals are coming over…”

“Okay,” Castiel interrupted him and turned his attention back to the sketches. Spread out on the table.

“Are you sure? Because it’s okay if you don’t want to…”

“I don’t mind, Sam,” Castiel said, even though he minded, very much indeed. He wasn’t sure he could stand being around Meg and not think about how much he would enjoy having angry sex with her. But he was an adult, dammit, not a stupid hormones-filled teenager. He could deal with his feelings in a healthy way. Besides: “I will be too sleep-deprived to even notice she’s here.”

“You’re cramming again? What about that organizer I gave you?”

“I thought we established I’m not an organized person,” Castiel replied.

The kettle whistled in the kitchen and Sam stood up to get it. He returned five minutes later and left a mug with Castiel’s favorite tea right besides him. Castiel’s heart thrummed in his chest. Sam was always so kind and attentive, he really couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Jess hadn’t wanted to marry him.

“But, uh, thank you,” he said.

Sam, who was about to disappear in his room’s direction, turned around to look at him with a bit of confusion.

“For the organizer. It was a thoughtful gesture,” Castiel pointed out.

“Yeah, it was just… you’re welcome, Cas,” Sam said.

Castiel smiled at him and he thought that would be the end of the conversation. But Sam lingered in the doorway a moment longer, tapping his fingers in his own mug, as if he was lost deep in thought. He kept staring at Castiel and licking his lips, opening his mouth and closing it again.

“What is it, Sam?” Castiel asked, after that silence prolonged so much it started becoming awkward.

“I was just wondering… after we’re done with finals, maybe we could… go out.”

“Out where?”

“Just… out of the apartment,” Sam said. “Have a drink. Celebrate we’re done with college.”

“Will Dean be coming?” Castiel asked. He liked Sam’s older brother well enough, but the last time they had gone to a party with him, they had woken up two states away with their wallets missing.

“No.” Sam shook his head with a smile, obviously thinking about that adventure as well.

“Oh.” Castiel tapped the paper with his pencil for a moment. “Will Meg?”

“I… wasn’t planning on inviting her,” Sam confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know, I wanted it to be just you and me. But if you want her to come, I could ask her…”

“No.” Castiel shook his head. He barely could manage not making an ass of himself when around her and sober, throwing in some alcohol into that mixture could prove disastrous. “Just you and me. That sounds good.”

“Yeah.” Sam’s smile lit up his entire face. “Yeah, it does.”

Castiel almost forgot about that conversation in the days that followed. Between studying for his exams and putting together sketches and models for his presentations, he slept pretty much nothing, lived on ramen and coffee for three straight days and finally, after coming back from the last one, he simply collapsed on the couch, too exhausted to drag himself to his bed. Too exhausted to feel anything at the fact he was, technically, an architect. A real, honest to God, architect, with a title.

Father and Mother would be proud. His brothers and sisters would joke with him for being a nerd. And perhaps, now that he had managed to fulfill their expectations, now that he had done everything that they wanted him to do, he could think about what he really wanted. Meg had been right, he couldn’t complain. He wasn’t helpless. He could work in his father’s firm and afford his Art career. He would be putting the effort into making the money, he could use it for whatever he wanted.

“Hey. Hey, get up.”

“Go away,” Castiel growled and rolled over. It wasn’t enough that he thought about Meg and her words all the time when he was awake, did she also have to haunt him in his sleep?

Her hand came to rest on his shoulder and shook him a little.

“Wake up, Clarence.”

“I don’t know who Clarence is.”

“Sure you don’t. Come on, get up and congratulate me.”

“For what?”

“Well, my thesis was accepted and now I only have to defend it,” she explained. The couch sank when she sat by his side. “And then I can strap on for my life of flipping burgers with my useless degree.”

“Nah,” Castiel replied. “You’ll get a job that pays a lot and then you’ll get to do whatever you want.”

“You really think so?”

“It’s obvious,” Castiel groaned. “You could like, write books about modern absurdism, become a college professor and then force your students to buy it for something you said on page two of chapter three and then don’t use it for the rest of the semester.”

“Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“I guess,” he sighed. “Whatever you do, though, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You’re too smart. Like, so much smarter than I am. And you’re always calling me out on my bullshit. It’s annoying, but also kind of hot. I like a woman who can challenge me to do better.”

He only said that because he was still half convinced that he was asleep. He wouldn’t have that conversation with Meg if he was in his right mind. It’d be too embarrassing.

“What about Sam?”

“Yes, Sam. That’s why I don’t tell you these things. I don’t want to come between the two of you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Meg explained. “What about the massive crush Sam has on you?”

“What are you talking about?” Castiel frown. This dream was definitely not going the way he’d expected it.

“You mean he hasn’t told you?”

Castiel opened his eyes, because the confusion of the dream was finally getting to him. He immediately regretted that decision, because the weight of Meg’s body with him on the couch didn’t vanish at all. In fact, he was starting to realize it wasn’t a dream at all, she was there for real, that conversation had actually happened and he had all but admitted his feelings for her. And… what was that last bit about Sam?

He met her eyes with unabashed horror while she frowned at him, her lips parted as if she couldn’t believe what he’d just said and she couldn’t make sense of it. Castiel was scrambling in his head desperate to find some words (any word) that would make that silence a little less ominous, when the door opened up and Sam came in.

“Oh, hey,” he said, blinking at Meg. “You’re here.”

“Uh… yes, I guess I am,” Meg said, with a slight shrug. “Did you want me to leave?”

“No!” both Sam and Castiel said at the same time. Castiel wanted to know what he had said, exactly, because now that he was awake, he was entirely too sure it had been something terribly stupid. And Sam looked a little scared, as if she didn’t want to leave the two of them alone.

Meg ignored their awkwardness and smirked.

“Alright, fine,” she said, picking up her backpack. “Good thing I got some other boys with me here.”

“You invited more people to our apartment?” Castiel asked.

“Just the Four Horsemen: Jack, Johnny, Jimmy and Jameson.” She took out a bottle for every one of the names. Castiel had never seen that much alcohol together outside of a bar.

“Where did you get that?” Sam asked.

“I ransacked my dear step-dad’s liquor cabinet,” Meg admitted. “Crowley won’t even miss them. You guys want a cocktail or do you want to go through them individually?”

Castiel exchanged a look with Sam. On one hand, it was a sad thing that they didn’t get to go out the way they had planned to. On the other, he no longer was sure he and Sam had the same idea about what they were going to do once they were alone together. On yet another hand, maybe Meg didn’t mean the thing about the crush literally. She could have just been jesting like she did so often.

And in conclusion, Castiel needed to get black out drunk to forget about all the humiliating and inappropriate things they had said.

“I could go for a cocktail.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam said, rolling with the tide as he was wont to do. “Why not?”

Meg made the cocktail, happily chatting about her exams, congratulating Sam on the result of his and complaining about the fact they would have to go to the college’s graduation ceremony.

“Those things are the most boring things in the universe,” she complained, as she pour the shots and serve them in a plate. “What, so the four to six years of partying and not sleeping for our stupid exams didn’t kill you? We are going to kill you with this boring ass speech about the future and how you’re young and ready to conquer the world and whatnot.”

“You’re just mad because you have to write the boring ass speech,” Sam pointed out.

“You’re the valedictorian?” Castiel asked, although he had no idea why that surprised him.

“It’s such a bullshit title,” Meg complained, as she laid down the cocktails in the coffee table. The dark gold liquid waved, dangerously close to spilling. “What am I even supposed to say? _‘I don’t know half of you as well as I should like and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve. Also, good luck paying that mountain of student loans.’_ ”

Both Sam and Castiel laughed at her comment and leaned to pick the shot glasses. They toasted and drank down the content in one gulp. The whiskey burned down Castiel’s throat so hard that he coughed. Sam shook his head like a dog out of the water and Meg grimaced and breathed out.

“Alright then,” she said, picking up one of the bottles. “You guys care to make it interesting?”

“What you have in mind?”

Castiel should have known from Meg’s wicked grin that nothing good could follow.

It started simple enough with a game of Truth or Dare. Though, more exactly, it should’ve been a game of Truth or Drink. They had to answer some painfully embarrassing questions or take another shot of the Four Horsemen cocktail. Castiel was pretty certain that with only passing up a couple of questions they would be too smashed to keep going, but if he was going to confess to things that could be used against him, he might as well have the excuse of the nasty combination that was exhaustion and drunkenness.

“… and that was the most stupid… the stupidest thing I ever did with a girl in the bedroom,” Castiel finished his story. Sam and Meg, both sprawled on the couch and with Meg leg’s on top of Sam’s lap, laughed at him for five minutes straight, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care. He was lying on his back on the carpet and having trouble keeping his eyes open, in a moment or two he was going to pass out and not have to think about anything.

“Alright, alright, next question,” Meg said, pouring the next cocktail, because she had refused to say what was the stupidest thing she’d done. “So… have you ever made out with someone of the same sex?”

Castiel had to really think about it, because his brain was blinking in and out of memory by that point.

“I don’t believe… no, I never have…” he mumbled and rubbed his temples. “Uh… you?”

“Of course,” Meg said, with a wink. “My ex-girlfriend said I’m a fairly good kisser.”

“That’s nice of her,” Castiel said, only half aware of how that didn’t make any sense. “Sam?”

Sam opened his mouth then closed it again. He reached for the shot glass and emptied it without another word.

“Really? You’re not going to tell?” Meg asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I… I rather not,” Sam said, looking down at his shoes for so long Castiel wondered if he was going to vomit. “Next question.”

“Fine,” Meg huffed. “Who’s a better kisser, me or the boy you kissed?”

“Oh, my God, Meg, would you let it go?” Sam groaned. He was always a belligerent drunk.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know?” Meg insisted. “But fine, if you don’t want to tell, I’ll take the shot.”

She started pouring again into the shot glass, but even though her speech wasn’t slurry and she seemed to be holding herself together pretty well, she still spilled some alcohol on the table. She cursed and looked around to find something to clean with, and when she couldn’t find anything, she turned to Sam again.

“Take off your shirt.”

“You’re not cleaning that with my shirt.”

“Oh, come on, you have prettier shirts,” Meg said. Sam clenched his jaw and shook his head. “Fine.”

In one swoop movement, she took off her own shirt. Castiel didn’t mean to stare, he really didn’t. But Meg’s body was titillating, her black lace bra pressing her small breasts, forming a heart shape in her cleavage…

“Put it back on,” Sam said, stopping her hand right before she leaned over to wipe the spilled alcohol. “I’ll get a… get a… a thing.”

“A cloth,” Castiel suggested.

“Yes, that. Thank you.”

“Fine,” Meg repeated. She leaned back on the couch and grabbed one of the bottles to take a swig directly from it. She made no attempt at putting her shirt back on. Castiel put an arm over his eyes and grimaced. Thank God he was so drunk, because all the thoughts he was having would’ve turned embarrassingly obvious otherwise.

“Meg. Come on,” Sam said when he returned.

“What? It’s not like you haven’t seen them,” Meg shrugged. “And Clarence doesn’t mind, do you, Clarence?”

“I still don’t know who Clarence is,” Castiel groaned. He removed his arm from his eyes and looked at her again, because she was so beautiful he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. “And, uh, no. I don’t mind.”

“You don’t, do you?” Meg asked, again smiling evilly. “You like them?”

“They’re perfectly adequate.”

“You know, a girl could get offended,” she complained. “You don’t want me to take my clothes off and you don’t even have something nice to say about my boobs,” she added, pointing at Castiel with an accusing finger. “I don’t even know why I bother with you two.”

Sam chuckled as he finished drying the whiskey on the table. He tried to stand up but he stumbled on his own feet and ended up falling on his ass on the carpet. Castiel sat up to try and help him… too fast, it had been too fast and now the room was spinning, oh God, he should not have sat up so fast. He closed his eyes and leaned forwards, and of course, Sam was there to catch him, hold him and tell him to take it easy. Castiel sank his forehead in his shoulder and breathed in.

“You’ve been using my shaving cream again,” he accused Sam.

“Yeah, well… it smells nicer than mine.”

“You could buy your own,” Castiel protested.

He looked up only to see Sam’s eyes fixed on him. It was strange. Castiel had known him for so long and if somebody had asked him, he would have said Sam had hazel eyes. But now that he was watching them up close, he noticed something different. He tilted his head and moved even closer to make sure he was seeing it correctly.

“What?” Sam asked, somehow startled.

“You have sunflowers,” Castiel commented. “In your eyes, there are sunflowers. They’re pretty.”

Was that a weird thing to say? Had he made Sam uncomfortable? He must have, because his friend was looking away, but he made no attempt to move from where Castiel was still clinging unto him. The room still wasn’t stable enough for him to be stop leaning unto Sam.

“It was Brady,” Sam groaned.

“What?”

“The guy I kissed,” Sam explained, turning his gaze towards Meg. “Tom Brady, he was one of Jess’ classmates. It was before I dated her. He… he… we were messing around at a party in his frat house, I was staying in his room ‘cause it was late. And we made out for a while before we went to sleep. It was… it… it didn’t mean anything.” Sam breathed out deeply. “Well, he said it didn’t mean anything.”

“Oh. You liked him,” Meg deduced, arching an eyebrow.

Sam shrugged, as if the fact he liked Brady or not didn’t change that they had kissed and Brady had wanted nothing afterwards.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry, Cas?”

“I’m sorry you liked him and he didn’t want to date you,” Castiel clarified. “You’re an awesome person, Sam. People who don’t want to be with you are missing out.”

“Stop,” Sam muttered.

“Nah, it’s true,” Meg said. She stood up, fell to her knees and crawled to join them in the carpet. She passed a leg over Sam’s legs and sat on his lap. “You’re too fucking good. Why are you even seeing a mess like me? You could do better. I mean, you could do Cas.”

“Guys, seriously…”

“Like, I’m only seeing other guys still because I think I like you way more than I should and that freaks me out,” Meg confessed. “And then there’s Clarence here, obviously crushing on me hard and doing nothing about it. It’s kind of getting on my nerves.”

“I’m not… I’m…” Castiel muttered pathetically, but honestly, at that point, there was nothing he could say. The cat was out of the bag.

Despite obviously being uncomfortable at the two people leaning on him and talking about how great he was, Sam managed to find it in his heart to laugh at the entire ordeal.

“Told you, you were being obvious,” Sam said. “I mean, you read Nit… Nietzsche for her, for fuck’s sake.”

Except he said it “niche” and that was funny. Castiel giggled like an idiot while Sam put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer.

“I mean, I wasn’t going to say anything. About me being in love with you,” he confessed. “’Cause like… that’s been going on for a while. I didn’t want to bring it up, ‘cause I still want us to be friends.”

“Of course we can still be friends, Sam,” Castiel said. His brain was having a delayed reaction at the fact his best friend just flat out admitted to love him and not in the platonic buddies kind of way, so his words weren’t making any sense. “We can still be friends. Even if I kiss you and I still decide I like Meg better, we can totally be friends.”

“Wow,” Sam muttered. “I’m really trying not to feel insulted here, Cas.”

Meg threw her head back to laugh.

“So we’re just three oblivious dumbasses who are all in love with the wrong person,” she pointed out. “That’s just awesome.”

“Well, it’s… it’s complicated,” Castiel said. “But not more complicated than a triangle. If we ignore all of Meg’s side guys, that is.”

“Yeah, let’s ignore them,” Meg agreed. “You guys are objectively cuter than any of them anyway.”

“What I’m trying to say,” Castiel continued, “it’s that maybe, there’s a way we can make this work and everybody can be happy. I’ve read about those things. On the Internet. We can… yeah.”

The other two remained silent, looking at him for so long that Castiel was about to say that was a stupid idea and take it back. Sam blinked several times like an owl and turned to Meg.

“What… what do you say? You’re the one who’s into open relationships.”

“I say… we shouldn’t discuss this while we’re all so shit-faced,” Meg said, and that sounded like a most sensible suggestion. Castiel was fighting to keep awake and though Sam was holding his balance with one arm around Meg’s waist and the other on Castiel’s shoulders, he was also making an extra effort not to collapse on the floor. “We should go to sleep.”

She stood up, slowly, holding unto the coffee table with one hand and to Sam’s shoulder with the other. She swayed on her feet for a moment and Castiel feared she might fall again, but she managed to keep straight, holding out her hand for Sam. Sam took and stood up as well, putting a hand around her waist so they could hold on to each other. Castiel wasn’t sure how they were supposed to make it all the way until the end of the hall where Sam’s room was. On his part, he was going to stay on the carpet. It was comfortable enough and that way, he wouldn’t hear them when they started…

“You coming, Clarence?”

Castiel looked up to see Sam was holding out his hand to him and Meg was watching him expectantly. He wasn’t sure that meant what his alcohol-soaked brain wanted it to mean, but he nodded anyway and let Sam pull him up.

They stumbled and staggered down the hallway, hanging unto each other rather pathetically, laughing when Sam almost let go of Meg and when Castiel failed to find the doorknob to his room… Sam’s room. They were going to Sam’s room, because according to Meg, Sam’s bed was big enough for the three of them.

That theory had to be tested and retried once they were inside. Because while, granted, Sam’s bed was pretty big, there was a reason for that: Sam was an unreasonably tall person with unreasonably marked abs and Meg was tiny compared to him, so of course she would assess the bed was bigger than it needed to be. Castiel, while shorter than Sam, was still a bit broad-shouldered, as Meg found out when she started helping him with his shirt because he couldn’t coordinate his fingers enough to undo the buttons correctly.

“Woah, Clarence,” she muttered when he finally removed his shirt. She placed a hand over her bicep and squeezed slightly. “That’s really nice.”

“Thanks, I… uh, I run.”

“Good for you,” Meg said, her eyes lowering down his chest appreciatively. “Had I known, I would have jumped on this bandwagon faster.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

Instead of answering, Meg stood on the tip of her toes and left a peck on the side of his lips. Castiel felt a shiver go down his spine and he must have blacked out a little bit, because the next thing he knew was that he was kissing her, hot and sloppy, at the same time she pulled him back. They clumsily fell on top of Sam’s bed and Meg broke off the kiss to unbutton her jeans and toss them aside.

The mattress sank besides Castiel and he looked over his shoulder to see Sam, also stripped down to his underwear, pulling the covers over them. He didn’t seem mad that Castiel had kiss Meg. In fact, all his attention was focused on him. He tentatively put a hand on Castiel’s hip, right above his waistband. Light, soft. As if he was afraid Castiel was going to tell him to stop or pull away from him.

Castiel didn’t intend to do anything of the sort. He just kept looking at Sam while his friend’s lip trembled and he inched closer to Castiel. The sunflower in his eyes looked interrogative.

“Is it okay… can I…?”

“I’m not Brady, Sam,” Castiel said.

Sam still hesitated a moment before he finally closed the gap between their lips.

So that was different. Not bad, just… different. Meg had kissed him with confidence and her lips had been smooth and wet. Sam’s lips were chapped and a little dry. His mouth tasted like whiskey, which Castiel was sure they all tasted like. He was hesitant, as if he still feared Castiel would change his mind, but after a few seconds, he relaxed and even nibbled Cas’ lower lip. Castiel moaned quietly right before they broke away.

“Do I get a kiss goodnight?”

“Yes, of course.”

Sam moved over Castiel’s shoulder to kiss Meg briefly. When they separated, Meg laid down on Castiel’s arm, burying her face in his neck. Not a second later, her breathing was even and deep.

“Does she always…?”

“Yes,” Sam giggled. “Every single time. She has no concept of personal space.”

Castiel couldn’t say he particularly minded.

Sam settled down against the pillows. His hand was still on Castiel’s hip, but it seemed like he was trying to scurry back to the edge of the bed.

“You can come closer, Sam. It’s okay.”

“Sorry,” Sam muttered. He inched close enough that Castiel could feel the heat of his chest against his back. “It’s just… this is… I’m not used to sleeping with so many people here.”

They both laugh quietly and then fell silence for so long Castiel thought Sam had fallen asleep. He was going to do exactly that when Sam’s voice came again:

“I just… I’m not entirely sure how we’re going to make this work.”

“Me neither,” Castiel confessed. “But weren’t you the one who wanted something not so by the rules?”

Sam’s chuckle tingled in the back of Castiel’s head.

“Yes. I guess you’re right.”


End file.
